Page 110 of Bitter When He Begs

“He saluted me with a kiss!”

“Yeah, that’s gonna be on the Instagram feed by the end of the hour. Hope you’re emotionally prepared for that.”

“I’m not,” I hiss, finally slumping into the seat like I just ran a marathon. “Why is he like this? Why does he have to be—him?”

Nate pats my thigh solemnly. “Because fate decided you needed to be punished with feelings.”

I glare at him. “You’re not helping.”

“I never claimed I would.”

Below us, Luca’s being mobbed by the team, his face flushed and beaming, energy bouncing off him like it has nowhere else to go. But every couple of seconds, his eyes flick back to the stands—back to me—and that damn smile curls his mouth again.

I can’t take it. I physically cannot. My chest is doing that weird tight thing it only does when he’s looking at me like that—not the smirking, cocky, “I know you want me” look. But the one that’s quieter. That’s real.

“He’s bullying me at this point,” I mutter. “I’m going to die.”

“I know,” Nate says cheerfully. “It’s going to be a beautiful tragedy.”

I punch his arm half-heartedly, then keep watching Luca. And this time, when he smiles, I let myself smile back even thoughmy cheeks hurt. I wave, subtle and awkward because I’m not used to being this obvious. He winks, and even from across the field, it knocks the wind out of me.

“I’ll see you later,” I say to Nate, already moving down the stairs.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” he calls after me.

“You’d do anyone!” I shout back and he just grins.

I make my way to the sideline where players are shaking hands, the cheerleaders are taking post-game photos, and the noise is chaos. I spot Luca peeling off his gloves, his jaw tight, his expression unreadable for a beat before it softens the second he sees me again.

He doesn’t hesitate.

Doesn’t check his surroundings.

Doesn’t care who’s watching.

He just walks up, cups my jaw with one sweaty, callused hand, and kisses me.

Right there in front of everyone. And for once, I don’t care either.

BecauseI’m his.

Becausehe’s mine.

And because, even with thousands of people watching, the only thing that matters is that we’re still standing in each other’s orbit. Still fighting for whatever this is between us.

He pulls back slightly, his breath warm against my cheek. “Was that okay?”

I blink up at him, dazed and grinning. “You just won the game and kissed your boyfriend in front of the whole damn school. You tell me.”

He grins. “Highlight of my fucking day.”

I roll my eyes, but my heart’s thudding like crazy. “You played good, King.”

He presses a kiss to my temple. “I played for you.”

And fuck, if I’m not a mess.

I don’t even care that Nate will mock me for the next week. Or that I’ve officially become one of those people who wears their boyfriend’s number and stares at him like he hung the stars.

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